


Meant To Be

by meet_me_onthe_equinox



Category: Parks and Recreation, parks and rec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-23 10:59:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8325187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meet_me_onthe_equinox/pseuds/meet_me_onthe_equinox
Summary: AU where April and Andy reunite at the Parks Department after having dated during college.





	1. Haunted

That horrible sound breaks into April’s bubble once again. It’s not loud, it’s not raucous, but it still feels like a drill perforating her skull. Just the sound of lips playing a game with no winners, separating briefly only to join again. She doesn’t need to turn her head to know where it’s coming from. Ever since Ben and Leslie decided to remain a couple despite it jeopardizing the woman’s campaign, they’ve made a habit out of kissing in the office, where everyone can see them. Where April can see them.

The ghost calls from inside her chest. At this point, she has learned to accept its presence. She knows it will be there, every day. It might come by just to say hello, maybe to ache a little, maybe just as a friendly reminder. Except this ghost is anything but friendly. At its worst, it shows her all the images she so desperately tries to avoid thinking of, and all her twisted memories appear before her eyes like slides on a projector. They still hurt like knives, yet it’s not something April can’t bear. If getting used to things counts as a coping mechanism, she’d say it’s working for her.

Ron steps out of his office, a coffee cup that’s probably not filled with coffee in his hand. He winks at April as he walks towards the deputy’s office. If the ghost wasn’t still there, she might have been able to respond properly. After all, Ron is kind of cool. He clears his throat by the threshold. Startled, Ben breaks away from Leslie’s grip, almost tripping over a chair in the process.

‘‘I should probably leave,’’ Ben babbles, his face scarlet. ‘‘See you after work.’’

‘‘Sorry, Ron. We were just-’’ Leslie begins once her boyfriend is gone.

‘‘Don’t care. I also don’t care for maintenance reports, you do.’’ He holds up a paper sheet. April can barely see it from her desk, but the gaps on it are presumably empty. ‘‘Therefore, I shouldn’t have to remind you to fill them on a weekly basis.’’

‘‘Crap on a fork,’’ she mutters. ‘‘I mean, I didn’t forget. I was just about to do it, right after I finished…’’

‘‘Your make out session?’’

Yeah. Ron is kind of cool. Although seemingly not cool enough to ban those.

‘‘Actually, I was working on the signs for my campaign. Not to brag, but they look awesome. And it only took me two days and a half of constant redesigning,’’ she notes proudly.

‘‘Good God, woman. Do you sleep at all?’’

‘‘Well…’’ Leslie takes a sip from her own cup, bigger than Ron’s but definitely filled with coffee. Or maybe Red Bull. Probably both.

‘‘You can’t keep on like this, Leslie. You need a sabbatical.’’

‘‘No!’’ April can see Leslie’s lips pursing, a childish habit that’s never truly left her.

‘‘Then at least let me hire you an assistant. No one here is going to fill your void, but no matter what you say, the Parks Department can’t use a 100% of your work right now.’’

‘‘Since when are you willing to have new people in the office?’’ Leslie scowls.

‘‘Ever since you started pouring your coffee on a sugar jar.’’

Bewildered, Leslie realizes what she is doing. The brew is just undrinkable now.

‘‘Look, I know this guy… He just graduated college, he’s a good friend of mine and an honest worker. Why don’t you meet him tomorrow?’’

‘‘Fine,’’ she surrenders. ‘‘Just as long as he isn’t from Eagleton.’’

‘‘Born and raised here in Pawnee,’’ Ron smirks under his mustache. ‘‘Well, he did half of his degree in Michigan, but he’s Pawneean to the core.’’

‘‘Alright,’’ Leslie sighs. ‘‘Bring your boy.’’

April sinks into her chair. If there is one person who loathes dealing with strangers more than Ron himself, that is April Ludgate.

* * *

The ghost dances around April’s desk once again, asking its favorite question: why? Why does she keep coming into work, why do people enter the office saying ‘‘good morning,’’ as if new days could be any good at all. Why do they smile so much, why is _recreation_ a thing. Why has she ended up providing it for the people of this stupid town. Why is Leslie talking to her right now.

‘‘… so I need you to do that as well, okay?’’

April lifts her head, hoping that counts as a nod. She has no idea what she’s just been asked for, anyway.

‘‘Why is Ron taking so much?’’ Leslie’s _whys_ are quite different. ‘‘Oh, there he is!’’

The Parks director walks into the bullpen. There is a hint of excitement on his face, and something else… Maybe pride. A huge man follows him. He is young, but tall as a wardrobe. The first thing April notices is his short-sleeved, yellow shirt, strangely matched with decent pants and sneakers. As if the guy wanted to look formal, but had no clue how. Then, April’s eyes get to his face.

It can’t be. It’s just the ghost, messing with her again. Another wicked image to torture her in public. He is definitely not…

‘‘Andy, I’d like you to meet Leslie, our deputy director,’’ says Ron. ‘‘She’ll be your main boss.’’

‘‘Pleasure to meet you, boss.’’ Andy shakes Leslie’s hand vigorously.

‘‘We’re happy to have you, Andy,’’ Leslie responds. ‘‘Let me show you around. Ugh, Tom’s not here. Anyway, that one over there is Donna.’’ Leslie points at the other side of the room, and Donna waves at the newcomer almost seductively. ‘‘And this is April, Ron’s assistant among other things.’’

Before that moment, April has been concealed by Leslie’s torso, and too paralyzed to even grab one magazine to hide behind. When Leslie moves aside to introduce her, April is completely disarmed. She feels almost naked. Just like he used to see her so long ago.

‘‘April…’’ Andy says under his breath when he notices her for the first time. Soon, the initial shock on his face turns into a wide grin. ‘‘Hey.’’

The ghost is no longer so. It’s no longer a bad memory, a nightmare, or a cruel hologram. Now it’s something real, since apparently everyone else can see him. Still, more whys resound inside April’s head: _why is he here, why is my stomach inside out, why can’t I breathe, why is my chest cut in half, why does his voice break me._

‘‘Oh,’’ Leslie pipes up. ‘‘You two know each other?’’

‘‘No,’’ April manages to say. Somewhere, she finds the strength she needs to stand up, open the courtyard door and leave that room once and for all.

* * *

April’s phone buzzes on her bedside table. Had she slept at all, it could never have woken her. She truly wishes she could take an unconscious break, but wishes are pointless. Ron’s number appears on the screen. Who would have thought the man would buy himself a mobile telephone, as he calls that ancient device he wears on a belt clip?

April ignores the incoming call, as she does with the second. The third time is just annoying. But Ron calling for the fourth one is certainly alarming. Eventually, she picks it up.

‘‘What?’’

‘‘Oh, God, where were you? Why aren’t you here already?’’

‘‘I’m sick,’’ April fakes a cough.

‘‘Normally, I would pretend I believe you. But not today.’’

‘‘Ugh, can’t you just drop every call yourself? Or even better, why don’t you ask your new intern to do it for you?’’

‘‘He’s not an intern, April. And, as hard-working as he is, we are swamped here today. Farmers Market is next week.’’

Of course. April can picture the whole place filled with every single citizen that owns some stupid business, competing for the best spot, complimenting the required forms, complaining about every minor detail. The bustle used to be under control with Leslie there, and only a couple of lost dummies ended up by her desk. But now… it sure was being the greatest chaos. Not a thing the Department’s newest member can’t fix, though. April hangs up, determined to stay in bed all day.

 

Not an hour has passed when the front door slams downstairs. The sound of a body bumping into the living room’s furniture comes next. Something glassy falls to the floor and breaks. Natalie’s annoying laughter reverberates in April's brain. A man chuckles too, probably Derek. Definitely Derek. They've been together for less than a month and he is already all Nat can think about. Four legs clumsily climb up the stairs, and then she hears it. Lips moving against each other. April’s hands muffle her ears, but she still can hear them. It’s just unbearable.

Natalie and Derek go past April’s room, their bodies fixed to each other’s, and walk into her sister’s bedroom. Before she wonders how they even thought of this, April remembers her parents are at work, just like she is supposed to be. And there she heads to, because anything is better than this everlasting nightmare, and because only money and independence can save her from it.

* * *

Luckily for April, Andy has been too busy dealing with the public to make any attempt to address her. She also has had her fair share of citizens yelling at her, and _drained_ doesn’t even come close to describing her current state. If only she could sleep…

It is starting to get dark outside when Ron dismisses the last farmers at the counter. Once they’re gone, Ron comes back to his office and pours himself some Scotch. Even for him, it’s been a long day.

April can tell Andy is looking at her from his desk. This is the moment she’s been dreading; there is no distractions now whatsoever. Not even Tom is there to make things easier, since he only works there part time and went home early. As for Donna, she left along with a hot broccoli seller and hasn’t been back since noon. It’s just them, trapped in this hell of a room for another half hour as all her body aches.

 _He’s gonna walk over here_ , says the ghost. _You need to do something about it._

 _You’re right_ , April thinks to herself as she leaves her seat and steps into her boss’ office, closing the door behind.

‘‘I need a lock,’’ Ron mutters before taking another sip of whiskey.

April collapses on the wooden bench. After all, there is only so much her legs can bear.

‘‘You look like you could use a drink, girl,’’ the man says, offering her a glass that she doesn’t bother to refuse.

‘‘Why did you hire him?’’ April closes her eyes as she speaks, because even pronouns can hurt.

‘‘Andy? Well, clearly we needed a hand here. Leslie’s not gonna be around for a while and…’’

‘‘I mean, why _him_?’’ April eventually opens her eyes. ‘‘How do you know him?’’

‘‘Well… I first met Andy at the worst place on Earth.’’

‘‘So, here?’’

‘‘I’ve taught you well,’’ Ron gives her a proud look. ‘‘You are right. The second worst place.’’

April stares at him blankly. ‘‘I really am not in the mood for riddles,’’ she sighs.

‘‘Pawnee’s shopping mall.’’

‘‘What? Why the hell would you go there?’’

‘‘I know, that is what Food and Stuff is for, so anyone with half a brain doesn’t need to frequent that pit,’’ Ron shakes his head in disapproval. ‘‘But Diane once took me there for some… shopping.’’ April and Ron grimace simultaneously. ‘‘There was a shoeshine stand right next to her favorite store, and I figured I could have my shoes cleaned while I waited for her. It was the best shoeshine I’ve ever had. I went back after that, and then back again. Soon, the shoeshine guy earned my respect. We became close… acquaintances.’’

Now it all makes sense. Andy was just a poor guy whose mother could barely afford to maintain six children. Yet he was determined to build himself a better life, and college seemed like the only way to do so. Thus, he broke his back cleaning smelly shoes for eight years. Only then he’d made enough money to pay for the first course. Only then he’d met her. And so April’s curse began.

‘‘I don’t care. You need to fire him.’’

‘‘Why would I do that?’’ Ron laughs.

‘‘Because… He watches porn all day on his computer,’’ she improvises. Apparently this is the wittiest reason her sleepy brain can come up with.

‘‘First of all, everyone in this country should have the privacy to consume whatever they want, without others judging so. Secondly, bully for him!’’

‘‘What?’’

‘‘Today’s been unusually busy. But, as long as I’m concerned, that’s as much work as any government employee should do inside these walls.’’

April rolls her eyes, defeated.

‘‘Can I at least go home now?’’

‘‘It’s about time,’’ Ron says, taking a peek of his watch. He then looks at her, as if noticing something he’s been missing since April got there. ‘‘C’mon, I’ll drive you home.’’


	2. Outraged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing in present tense was a mistake. Let me fix that n_n'

‘‘I’m outtie!’’ Tom announced as he put on his cashmere coat. ‘‘Whoa, you’re rockin’ those nails, girl!’’

‘‘I know,’’ Donna accepted the compliment. ‘‘Just adding some finishing touches.’’

‘‘Ugh, why do you leave earlier every day?’’ April let out, dropping her doodling pen on her pad. ‘‘I mean, it’s not fair we have to stay in here and you don’t.’’

‘‘I’m a business man, baby,’’ he shrugged. ‘‘Those bistros ain’t gonna own themselves.’’

Tom left the office, taking the only social firewall April could use with him. Ever since he found that software that did all the work for him, Tom’s sole occupation had been to idly wander around the office, gushing about everything, with everybody. As annoying as April found that at first, it came in handy the moment she needed someone to look busy with. A simple glare on her behalf was enough to keep Andy from joining their conversation, if that even was what they had. The truth was, April tended to space out whenever Tom started talking about the different kinds of watch colognes. But him gone was even worse.

‘‘Okay, so it’s hummingbird day, people!’’ Leslie announced as she went through the bullpen’s main door.

‘‘Awesome!’’ Andy exclaimed from his desk, a big smile on his face. ‘‘Wait, what does that mean?’’

 _He’s as excited as ever_ , the ghost woke up. _He didn’t miss you the least bit. He doesn’t even recall what he did to you._

‘‘But Jerry’s not here,’’ April almost yelled; a sad attempt to silence the voice in her head.

‘‘I know Jerry retired, April. That’s why there’s no lottery this year,’’ Leslie explained. ‘‘So, I’m gonna need you and Donna to go fill those feeders, okay?’’

Normally, she would have despised the idea of spending the whole morning outdoors, where bugs and sticky trees abounded, and the wind cut with each wave. But things weren’t normal anymore, and even if Jerry had been there, she was pretty sure she would have volunteered for him, as long as that kept her away from…

‘‘Actually, this manicure took me a hell of a long time to look this good,’’ Donna objected. ‘‘It’s quite frail,’’ she added, glancing towards the counter, where a buff fisherman awaited for his fishing license to be renewed. ‘‘Can I run the permits desk instead?’’

Leslie pondered the suggestion for a while. ‘‘Alright.’’

_Go. Leave before she…_

‘‘But you shouldn’t go alone, April,’’ the woman turned to her. ‘‘You know, Ramsett Park is not exactly known for its great security.’’

‘‘Don’t worry Leslie, I’ve got a pepper spray,’’ she lied, grabbing her coat and shouldering her purse as fast as she could.

_But wouldn’t it be nice if you did get hurt? If everything ended? You wouldn’t use that spray even if you had it._

‘‘Shut up,’’ April mumbled.

‘‘What was that?’’

‘‘Nothing. Look, it’s ok-’’

‘‘Andy!’’

‘‘Yes, boss?’’ The called one jumped from his seat, pretty quickly for a guy his size.

‘‘You go with her.’’

By the way Leslie went into her office and started her binder routine, she didn’t seem to be aware of what she had just done. To April, though, those four words felt worse than a death sentence.

* * *

April’s second hand Saturn creaked under Andy’s weight as he hopped in. She turned the key and the engine roared to life, idling at top volume.

‘‘Wow, how old is this car? Like, a million years?’’ he laughed.

April grimaced towards him, disgusted by his sole presence. Then, she focused on the road ahead, because there was some hurt in that repulsion and she couldn’t afford to let it show. How could he be so nonchalant? After all they went through, after everything he did, how the hell did he think things would go back to normal? That she could be okay with him around again? Not only hadn’t he quit yet, but apparently he hadn’t even deemed an apology was needed. Not that April would forgive him, but still.

After a few minutes of deadly silence, Andy turned the car radio on. April’s heart skipped one of its feeble beats as soon as some trite chords came out from the speakers. She’d been easily disturbed by loudness for the past two years, and music was another thing she’d avoided ever since. April switched it off, as if driven by some unconscious impulse.

‘‘You touch anything else, I kick you out without even bothering to stop.’’

April was totally fine with a death threat being the first thing she uttered to him ever since he came back. Andy held up both hands in peace. Wait, was that a smirk? The nerve.

‘‘Good thing you have a car, though. I haven’t bought one yet. Plus, my license is crazy expired,’’ he said after a while.

Okay, that was it. With a sharp veer, April pulled off. They were just a couple of miles away from Ramsett Park, on the dirt road that linked it to Pawnee’s suburbs. An old farm stood a few yards away, but other than that the area was rather solitary. April sighed deeply, pressing on the bridge of her nose.

‘‘I can’t do this,’’ she muttered.

‘‘What? Driving?’’

‘‘Ugh, how can you be so clueless?’’ April grunted. ‘‘What is this, an act? Are you doing this on purpose?’’

Andy furrowed his brow, trying figure her words out. At last, a hint of realization crossed his face.

‘‘I’m just trying to be nice,’’ he said, his voice now discouraged. ‘‘Look, I know I screwed things up… I know I hurt you.’’ Indeed he did, and he didn’t seem likely to stop. ‘‘But I don’t wanna hurt you again, so I’m just trying to… you know, make things easier between us.’’

‘‘There is nothing between us, Andy. You shouldn’t have come back in the first place.’’

‘‘I-,’’ he began. Even though April was just incapable of staring back at him, she knew Andy was struggling to get the words out. Or maybe he was afraid of saying too much. ‘‘I  just needed the job. I didn’t even know you would be there.’’

‘‘Well, now you know. Don’t you think you should at least quit?’’

April’s grip on the steering wheel was so tight her knuckles were turning white. She didn’t care, especially since punching him in the face was the only alternative. Andy remained silent, his gaze now locked on the shoddy mat under his feet.

‘‘You are incredible,’’ she hissed.

And, for once, he didn’t take it literally.

* * *

‘‘Wow, there’s poop everywhere,’’ Andy said, checking out one of the hummingbird’s feeders.

‘‘Yeah, I’m not doing this,’’ April tossed the fodder can on the spotted ground.

‘‘I thought you liked animals.’’

 _That’s what you told him, remember?_ The ghost slashed her chest from inside almost casually. _That night, lying in bed, when you both planned on adopting a dog someday. Pathetic._

‘‘They’ll find food elsewhere,’’ she shrugged.

‘‘I’ll do it,’’ Andy picked up the can and opened it. ‘‘It’s just poop,’’ he chuckled, just like any six-year-old would have if something concerning feces were to be mentioned.

 _He seems harmless, doesn’t he?_ the ghost taunted her while Andy filled the trays. _C’mon, let him in. Just so he can leave you again. Let him destroy you._


	3. Drenched

Not having a car sucked. Especially since the Quiet Corn B&B where Andy was staying was in the middle of nowhere. At least those German muffins tasted amazing, and also there were cute cats all over the place. Still, it was far from everything, and the fact that Pawnee was experiencing one of its coldest waves ever didn’t help much either.

An ugly thunder resounded in the sky as he strolled down the outskirts of town. Very few people dared to expose themselves to the weather’s inclemency, and the empty streets made that neighborhood look ten times older. Yes, Andy had been gone for a while, but he didn’t expect to find his hometown that desolate. Although, among all changes, Pawnee’s appearance was the mildest.

Andy was yet to know why he was doing this. Maybe because he loathed those changes and, even though he wouldn’t have been able to put that feeling into words, he also hated himself for being the reason why many of those things changed in the first place. He was the only one to blame, and now the situation was out of hand. No wonder April was still mad at him; he plenty deserved to be avoided by her. Now, he understood. He’d made nothing but mistakes when it came to her, and trying to be nice had been probably the worst of them. What was he thinking?

Andy knew exactly where his own steps were taking him. He had no idea what for, or what he would do once there. But that building was drawing him inevitably. It was like those cool magnets he often played with on his desk; two pieces that attracted each other, with no logical or physical explanation. It just happened.

The campus of Pawnee Community College looked pretty much like he remembered it, except now it seemed quieter, and only those students who needed to bum a smoke stood outside. Piles of frozen snow built here and there, and the bare trees gave the place a creepy vibe. The faculties’ old brick walls made them look like some kind of mental institution. At least, that’s what April used to say. She hated that place, but she did love… that. And pretty sure she loved him too.

After a few more minutes walking, Andy got to the block he’d been subconsciously searching for: the student residence. He never quite lived there; his mother’s house wasn’t too far from there, and it was way cheaper to stay at home. That was before mama Dwyer decided to move to Pawnee’s retirement home, of course. No, he never had a room in that building that he could call his own, but he did spend most of his student life inside those walls.

The Old Res, as they used to call it, was where all the fun happened. Andy couldn’t help but smile just remembering those cool parties, where he’d won almost every drinking competition and played numberless gigs with his former band. And that girl who never danced, the girl in black that everyone ignored. Everyone but him.

And, of course, he had to ruin everything.

* * *

_‘‘How many times have we met here, Andy?’’ asked the counselor, leaning back in his chair and matching the tip of his fingers together._

_‘‘I don’t know,’’ the young boy shrugged. ‘‘I haven’t counted them.’’_

_‘‘Yeah. Math’s not your thing, is it? And, apparently, nor are the rest of your subjects.’’_

_‘‘I’ve been working my a… a lot since our last meeting,’’ Andy assured. ‘‘Like, I’ve been studying nonstop, I even missed almost every party I was invited to. And, not to brag, but they invite me to all of them.’’_

_‘‘I know you are very popular around here, kid. That’s why I thought you’d try your best to keep attending this university.’’_

_‘‘I really did!’’_

_‘‘Well, that’s not what your results say,’’ the man took his glasses off and browsed through Andy’s grade sheet. ‘‘I’m afraid we have to let you go.’’_

_‘‘What? Like, are you kicking me out?’’_

_‘‘The withdrawal letter won’t be using those words, but yes, that means you are expelled from this college, effective immediately. I’m sorry, Andy.’’_

_And, as everything fell apart, as all he ever got came to nothing, he couldn’t help but think that counselor wasn’t at all sorry._

* * *

Another boisterous lightning bolt brought Andy back to the present. He looked up at those dark gray clouds, only to find the contained raindrops were starting to fall. Putting his hood on, he realized it was time to go. The purpose of that visit still wasn’t clear. In fact, seeing the place where his long list of mistakes began hadn’t been helpful at all. He should have been at the Old Res that day, he should have met her there. Now? Now it was pointless. It was too late.

 

‘‘Thanks for picking me up, Ron,’’ Andy said after he got into the maroon sedan that he knew so well.

‘‘Holy Moses, you are drenched!’’ Ron merged onto the road again. ‘‘What were you doing here, son?’’

‘‘I still don’t know,’’ he admitted, scratching the wet hair at the back of his head. But then, a memory crossed his mind. ‘‘Hey, remember the last time you gave me a ride?’’

Ron’s expression turned thoughtful, his eyebrows almost becoming one.

‘‘I’m pretty sure I drove you to the airport,’’ he recalled. ‘‘How was Michigan, by the way? We still haven’t discussed that.’’

‘‘You really wanna know?’’ Andy chuckled. ‘‘That’s weird.’’

No matter how much he tried, Andy was not once able to figure out how stationery worked during his time away. And, given that Ron and smart phones were mortal enemies, they hadn’t talked much ever since he left. Andy did pay him a visit as soon as he graduated, and his old friend offered him a job right before he left Pawnee again. Sometimes he wondered if he really would have left otherwise.

‘‘Well, since the Ron Swanson Scholarship was named after me, I’d like to know if you made the best of it.’’

Said scholarship wasn’t a real thing, of course. It was more like a private joke between the two of them. A term that, if anything, made Andy feel less embarrassed and even more grateful.

‘‘It was way easier to get good grades, I’ll tell you that much. I mean, they let you focus on what you’re good at. And they talk a lot about our potential– though I don’t really know what that is.’’

Grades. It was an easier topic since he got better at them and stopped failing every class. It also had been the only bright side of having spent the last two years so far from home. So far from her.

‘‘Your mother must be very proud,’’ Ron piped up. ‘‘You wanted to be the first one in your family to graduate, and you made it.’’

Andy felt quite uncomfortable all of a sudden. That senseless walk down memory lane was now taking its toll on him. He shouldn’t have left the house that morning to begin with.

‘‘I don't know,'' he shrugged it off.

‘‘I’m just saying you finished what you started, son, and that is worth respecting.’'

Respect. That had always been the whole basis of their friendship. That man had gone out of his way, done everything he could to give him a better future, a second chance. For some reason, Ron had seen that ‘‘potential’’ in him before anyone else did. He became almost a father figure, and all just because he respected him. But, if Andy really wanted to deserve such respect, he at least needed to be completely honest with him.

‘‘Hey, Ron,’’ he said after a while. ‘‘You gave me another ride before that, remember? When you took me home after I went to your place and told you they'd kicked me out.’’

‘‘Yes, I do remember that. You were so scared… and gave me a scare, too.’’

‘‘I wasn’t freaking out just because I got expelled, Ron.’’

Ron stopped the car at a red light. The rain kept falling heavily against the windshield.

‘‘That night… I was supposed to be somewhere. And I wasn’t. I screwed up, man.’’

At that moment, Andy thought the rain that got him soaked had been a blessing. After all, tears and raindrops looked exactly the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might have been a little confusing... Feel free to ask me any doubts.


	4. Approached

_See the way they look at you? No wonder they can tell you’re a weirdo._

‘‘So, as I was saying, this dog park will cost almost nothing to the taxpayers. All you need is, like, a fence and that’s it,’’ April told the audience at the public forum.

‘‘Okay, but what about the smell? I live nearby, and frankly, dog feces are disgusting,’’ the Slug Woman stood up as she spoke. Sure she had a real name but, since she dismissed April’s innocuous method to get rid of those slugs in her front yard, said name just wasn’t worth learning. Screw her. And screw her annoyingly paralyzing questions.

‘‘You’ll get used to it,’’ Andy responded on April’s behalf. ‘‘It’s like… when I forget to take a shower because I’m so used to my own smell that I don’t even notice.’’

‘‘Yeah, it happens to me, too!’’ a voice of unclear source agreed somewhere among the public. There were also several grimaces, though. April’s included.

_Oh, c’mon. Don’t pretend that grosses you out. You couldn’t care less back then._

‘‘And what’s gonna happen to the Paunch Burger that was supposed to be there?’’ a man inquired.

‘‘Well…’’ April began, her voice a bit shaky. ‘‘There will be no Paunch Burger.’’

A choir of protests followed the announcement as the outraged citizens yelled at her like she was the only one responsible. Actually, the decision had been made at City Council and April had had nothing to do with it. They were right: that dog park was stupid. Pets should poop in those idiots’ front porches instead. But that wasn’t something April could say out loud. In fact, there was little she could verbalize at all, given the obstructing lump in her throat.

The audience’s tirade grew louder and eventually out of control. April didn’t know how to stop it. Furthermore, she was physically unable to even try. Closing her eyes, she desperately wished it all would go away. There was something protective about darkness, as if no one could see her, as if nothing existed. But her fine eyelids weren’t opaque enough. And they could do nothing to quiet the noise, either.

Suddenly, a familiar voice rose among the others.

‘‘Okay, listen to me!’’ Andy shouted, making the racket dwindle considerably. April opened her eyes and saw him standing next to her. ‘‘SILENCE!’’

Everyone shut up after that last order, all looks on the big, bearded man that no one had taken seriously until then.

‘‘A Paunch Burger will be opened somewhere else, okay?’’ Andy said. ‘‘Now, hear me out. I have so much influence over this town’s… rulers. Like you don’t even know,’’ his eyes narrowed, menacing. ‘‘I even know the governor personally. So, if any of you starts another fuss like this, you’ll pay the price. I still don’t know how much money, though… Oh, yeah, no Paunch Burger. That’ll be the price,’’ Andy’s smirk showed more pride than authority. Yet, people flocked to the exit right after he said:

‘‘Now, everybody out!’’

As soon as the last jerk left the room, April collapsed on her chair. Andy quietly sat on his, probably aware of her need for silence.

‘‘You lied to them,’’ she said when her heart reached a normal pace.

_He also lied to you._

‘‘I do know the governor, we met in Michigan. Though, I don’t know if he’s really a governor, to be honest. That was just kind of a nickname. His real name was Eddie, I think. Anyway, he owns tons of stuff an-’’

‘‘I mean, about the restaurant,’’ she interrupted.

‘‘So what?’’ Andy scoffed. ‘‘What’s the worst thing that could happen? Ron would never fire me.’’

‘‘Yeah, but Chris might.’’

_You shouldn’t be warning him. Wouldn’t it be better if he actually was fired?_

Andy gave her a confused look.

‘‘He’s the city manager,’’ April explained.

‘‘Oh. Anyway, it still was worth it,’’ he shrugged.

April turned to him and, for the first time ever since Andy came back, their eyes actually met. She hated him, she hated his warm look, his understanding expression, knowing her as no one else did, or pretending to do so, anyway. Foremost, she hated that he’d saved the day, that he’d saved her from them.

* * *

Fixing herself a salad was quick and easy. But actually having to eat it once in the office was a nightmare. April fumbled in her purse for some cookies or anything that would mask the taste. She found nothing, and hoped the dressing she’d added at home was enough as she sat by the bullpen’s round table.

The nothingness her brain slowly slipped into helped a little. April wasn’t quite sure if what she was chewing was a carrot or a bitter cherry when a loud noise brought her back to life. Something had been dropped on the table, right next to her forgotten soda. A bag of Skittles? Oh, please, no.

‘‘You should try these,’’ Andy said, taking a seat by her side. ‘‘Just pretend it’s corn.’’

‘‘Pass.’’

April tossed the lunch box in the nearest trash and went back to her desk. Maybe he’d leave her alone if she pretended to be busy…

‘‘Look, hmm… I think we should talk,’’ Andy followed her.

‘‘You do?’’ she sneered.

‘‘Yeah. You know, about what happened.’’

Not until then did April notice there was something odd in the room. A sound was missing… No one was typing, not even Leslie. Peeking out of her mental bubble, April saw Donna looking at them from the coffee machine. Tom spun his chair around when she caught him staring as well.

‘‘I don’t wanna do this, okay?’’ For a moment, Andy stood there, his hands resting on the back of one of those chairs no one ever used. He nodded, as if understanding he really needed to stay away from her. Andy swallowed hard, but that didn’t keep his eyes dry. They glistened, reflecting the fluorescent lamps’ light. ‘‘Not here, anyways,’’ April added when he eventually turned around.

‘‘Well, uh… d’you wanna go grab some real food?’’

‘‘Alright,’’ she shrugged. ‘‘Let’s go to Sue’s Salads.’’

_This is a mistake. Stop it, stop it, stop it._

‘‘Oh, really?’’ The disappointment on his face almost made her laugh. Almost. ‘‘Okay,’’ he agreed nonetheless.

April shook her head. That was the thing with Andy: he never learned.

* * *

‘‘So, you really didn’t know I would be working at Parks?’’ April asked, tasting one of JJ’s best milkshakes for the first time in ages. The sugar fueled her system, boosting her senses, and even allowing her to think more clearly. But, if that was the case, what was she still doing there?

‘‘No. Ron never told me,’’ Andy assured, dipping one of his fries in ketchup.

‘‘I thought you were friends.’’

‘‘We were. I mean, we are. But I never told him about you.’’

‘‘Why not?’’ April played with her straw. She knew why, and so did the ghost: _you embarrassed him._

‘‘You know, Ron’s not particularly interested in other people’s affairs. He’s a cool guy, but he’s not into that stuff.’’

‘‘Oh.’’ Yeah, that actually made sense, too.

‘‘I did expect to meet you around here, though,’’ he admitted. ‘‘Not on purpose, of course. But I kinda hoped I’d run into you or something.’’

‘‘So, you’d have never tried to find me?’’

Andy pondered the question for a moment, as if the answer was too long to be phrased without a previous rehearsal.

‘‘No,’’ was his simple response. He then poured some mayonnaise on his burger.

_He wasn’t trying to find the right answer. He was just debating between two sauces._

‘‘Look, I should go. I gotta meet Derek soon,’’ she lied. When hurt, bite back.

‘‘Oh, okay,’’ Andy said. He almost sounded discouraged, as if it mattered at all, as if he didn’t need to ask. Yet, he did. ‘‘Who’s Derek?’’

‘‘He’s my boyfriend,’’ April nonchalantly took two bucks from her wallet, just enough to pay for her meal.

She didn’t even bother to check his reaction as she left the diner. There was a chance he had none.

* * *

Like any other morning, April could see him glancing at her after he passed every Angry Birds level. Like any other morning, she slyly looked towards his desk whenever Andy was too busy adjusting that virtual slingshot. As usual, he got bored by noon and went to the bathroom. But, unlike any other day, Ron knocked the pane between them right after, beckoning her into his office.

By pressing a tiny remote, Ron closed the door she’d just walked through.

‘‘Impressive, right? Leslie got it installed overnight. Apparently, you can’t do her any favors without expecting something in return,’’ Ron shook his head, though unable to hide how pleased he really was with that gift.

‘‘Yeah, it’s super cool, Ron,’’ April said without much enthusiasm. ‘‘Is that all?’’

‘‘Actually, no.’’

April’s hand froze on the knob.

‘‘Please, take a seat.’’

The girl obeyed with a heavy sigh.

‘‘I know what happened between you guys,’’ he began, pushing aside the crossword puzzle he’d been working on all morning.

‘‘Of course you do,’’ April scoffed. ‘‘It’s funny because, according to him, he never told you.’’

‘‘He didn’t back then. But we had this conversation last week and-’’

‘‘Whatever.’’

‘‘Normally, I wouldn’t give a damn about this, you know that. But I really… appreciate this kid. I don’t like seeing him this way.’’

‘‘Oh, yeah, poor Andy. You should fire me and make him your assistant,’’ she snapped. That house of her own away from her annoying family trembled in the back of April’s mind.

‘‘I’m not firing anyone, April. And I’m not going to force any of you to stay, given the situation. But if only you could listen to what he has to say…’’

‘‘He left me, Ron. On the very day we were supposed to get married,’’ April’s voice broke at the end, but by this point the torrent of words was unstoppable. ‘‘He never explained why, he was unreachable on the phone. He just vanished from Earth.’’

‘‘I know, but-’’

‘‘No, you don’t know. You can’t possibly imagine what it feels like. I was dumped in some crappy altar, in front of all his friends, aka the whole school. Everyone laughed, but all I could think about was him, because he was all that mattered, and apparently, he still is. But you know what? I refuse. And I see now that he’s got his hooks in you, too.’’

April felt something wet running down her cheek, but wiped it soon enough with one hand. She wanted to stand up and leave; those words should be the last thing anyone heard from her. But she was powerless, forever sank in that chair, in front of the only person who knew what should have never been revealed.

Ron remained silent for a moment, waiting patiently for her to calm down.

‘‘I know he isn’t the victim here,’’ he said after a while. ‘‘But he’s well aware of his mistake, and it’s torturing him.’’

‘‘Oh, yeah, definitely,’’ she deadpanned.

‘‘The only reason he doesn’t let it show is because he doesn’t want you to feel even worse. He doesn’t expect you to forgive him, and neither do I. He just hopes you can forget it, so you can be happy on your own.’’

‘‘That’s what he told you?’’

‘‘Yes.’’

‘‘With those exact words?’’ she asked, not buying a thing. More than half of those sentences couldn’t be found among Andy’s vocabulary, and they both knew that.

April finally gathered the physical strength to get up and stepped towards the door.

‘‘Open this thing,’’ she demanded.

‘‘There’s a reason why he left, April,’’ Ron grabbed the remote. ‘‘You should ask him.’’ And then, he pressed the button, letting her go at last.

* * *

_Seriously, April. Don’t you wonder why?_ The ghost’s whys returned. Or, should she say, the main and only why.

April tried her best to focus on that solitaire game, but the cards blended into each other and soon hearts and diamonds became identical. As should happen in real life, at least in terms of hardness.

 _The wedding was too rushed and he freaked out._ That kind of made sense considering they had been dating for less than a month when they started printing those invitations.

 _It all had been a prank since the beginning._ Probably one of Andy’s friends filmed the whole thing so the fake groom wouldn’t miss a thing. April could still hear those laughs so vividly…

But, what if there was something else? After all, Ron wasn’t easily deceived, not even by a compulsive liar such as his pupil. What if she did deserve an explanation? April groaned, consumed by the unknown. Where was he now, anyways? The clock on her screen read it was lunch time. Again, she hadn’t been hungry enough to notice. April headed for the cafeteria before all those doubts ate her alive.

 

She didn’t have to walk much, or get to the place, even. As April went down the hall, Andy’s laugh came from one of the offices. Namely, from the Public Health Department, as shown by the plaque hanging outside. The door was ajar, and April couldn’t help but peek through the crack.

Andy and Ann (Leslie’s annoying best friend) were having lunch by the latter’s desk. They were just talking and laughing, at least for now. Anyhow, the scene dissuaded April from asking him anything at all.


	5. Prepared

April’s defenses had been at an all-time low lately. Maybe she should have slept more. Maybe she should have listened to her mother when she told her a bar was not a breakfast before she left home every morning. Sure she should have taken some pills when her throat started getting sore. But April didn’t do either of those things, and by the time she felt like trying to stave off the flu, she was already lying in a hospital bed.

It sucked, especially the first two days, when not being able to taste the hospital food had been the only upside of having both her nose and her lungs completely swamped. She’d called out of work again, claiming her grandmother was sick and she needed to catch a flight to Venezuela right away. Part of her felt terrible (nana was, like, the only cool person on the planet), but at this point April couldn’t even afford to trust Ron.

Now, after almost a whole week of cough syrup and Tylenol, she was more than ready to leave. April was packing her stuff when Natalie entered the room without even knocking. Derek followed her like an inseparable shadow.

‘‘You sure you’re not still contagious?’’ her sister asked, grimacing.

‘‘I’m clean. So, you finally decided to come and have your herpes treated?’’

‘‘Shut up,’’ Nat rolled her eyes before Derek started panicking. ‘‘Let’s go already.’’

‘‘Yeah. We also have to pick up my brother at pediatrics. He caught the flu, too,’’ he said, but his girlfriend wasn’t pleased with the idea.

‘‘Ew, I feel like a baby sitter.’’

‘‘More like a baby sister,’’ April muttered.

* * *

The children’s common room was nothing like April expected. One would assume that sick kids have no energy at all, that they just lie quietly in their bed as someone reads to them before they fall asleep, wishing they’d be healthy in the morning. But that wasn’t the case with the infants at Pawnee Saint Joseph Hospital.

The room was huge and greatly illuminated thanks to its wide windows. There were toys all over the place, as well as lots of colorful soft blocks which should probably have been spread across the floor, but now they served as improvised bleachers. From there, the children laughed and clapped their hands to the tune of some rusty guitar.

‘‘Everybody pees the bed, just something that we do,’’ someone sang as Derek held the door open for the siblings to come in first. That voice, though… ‘‘I for instance peed the bed till I was 22.’’

There he was. Of course Andy was there, he was everywhere, always. Like a curse.

 _Maybe you should stop resisting, then_. As the lulling medicine vanished in April's system, the ghost empowered.

‘‘So… which one is Charlie?’’ Natalie asked.

April gave the room a once-over in case one of them looked somewhat like Derek. But something else caught her attention. A stunning nurse stood right on the other side. Ann. The woman clapped and danced as well, a huge grin on her perfectly symmetrical face. For some reason, or most likely for none, April hated her. She tasted something bitter on her tongue, reminiscent of the syrup she’d been taking. Except, now that she remembered, that beverage’s flavor had been kind of sweet.

‘‘He’s the ginger in the third row,’’ Derek pointed at the elated, red-haired boy singing that silly song from the top of his lungs. ‘‘Easy to spot, isn’t he?’’

‘‘Okay, go get him,’’ said Nat. It was pretty obvious she didn’t want to spend another minute in what she considered to be a hostile environment. And, though not because of the kids, April was dying to leave as well.

‘‘Oh, but he’s having so much fun… I can’t just go and take him.’’

‘‘Sure you can,’’ April opposed.

‘‘Look, it’s almost seven. The show can’t last much longer,’’ Derek begged. ‘‘Plus, he’s been sick. Just… let him stay for a while, okay?’’

 

Indeed, Andy ended the gig a couple of songs later. April observed from afar how all those children ran towards him and surrounded him in a massive hug, laughing and screaming with joy. Andy let them as he chuckled himself, high-fiving them every now and then.

Eventually, the kids joined their parents (his brother in Charlie’s case) and Andy got free from that sea of little bodies. As he put his guitar in its case, he saw April standing there.

_Don’t worry about it. He’ll go greet the nurse._

April avoided his look, trying to focus on Charlie’s praising remarks as the boy told Derek about the show. That didn’t help either.

‘‘Hey,’’ Andy tapped her on the shoulder. April stepped back instinctively, burned by the touch. ‘‘What are you doing here?’’ he asked, all smiles.

‘‘I could ask you the same.’’

‘‘Oh, Ann heard about me playing for kids back in the day and asked me if I could, you know, drop by.’’

‘‘So now you’re friends with Ann?’’ April snorted.

_Why do you care?_

‘‘Not really,’’ he shrugged. ‘‘She just paid for my lunch once in case I said no. But she didn’t need to bribe me, really. This is so fun, I’d do it for free.’’

So that was it.

‘‘Who’s this?’’ asked Derek once Charlie ran out of things to gush about. He kept one arm over Natalie’s shoulders.

‘‘Oh, I’m Andy,’’ he answered, holding one hand out. ‘‘And you are…’’

‘‘Derek,’’ he used his free hand to shake Andy’s. ‘‘Natalie’s boyfriend.’’

‘‘I think we should leave,’’ Natalie urged. She gave April a knowing look that had nothing to do with the loudness of the place. For a moment, April saw herself crying on her sister’s shoulder, still wearing that stupid wedding dress they’d picked together at the store. She’d cried all night as Natalie hugged her, keeping all her pieces together with the last embrace April would ever get.

Andy’s expression was still lost in confusion. Not demanding for answers, just plain clueless. He wasn’t far from knowing April had made out a fake boyfriend, though. And, as humiliating as it already was, maybe she could keep some dignity with her if she explained herself.

‘‘You guys go,’’ April told the couple. ‘‘I’m gonna hang around here for a while.’’

‘‘April, I don’t think-,’’ Nat began, giving Andy a wary look.

‘‘It’s okay. I’ll see you at home.’’

‘‘Whatever.’’

Natalie, Derek and Charlie headed out towards the hospital parking lot.

‘‘It’s funny,’’ Andy laughed. ‘‘Your boyfriend and Natalie’s go by the same name.’’

April shook her head. Sometimes, Andy could be very slow. She could take advantage of it. The only problem was, she never had. And part of her knew she never would.

‘‘Actually, I have no boyfriend,’’ April confessed.

‘‘He dumped you for your sister? What an ass.’’

_Look who’s talking._

‘‘Oh, my God, Andy. I made him up, okay? I just used Nat’s boyfriend because it was the first name I could think of.’’

‘‘Oh,’’ he said, frowning as realization dawned on him. ‘‘Why would you do that?’’

‘‘I just… I needed to get out of that diner.’’

‘‘So… I’m guessing you don’t wanna go back there now?’’ he asked, almost shy, playing with the guitar pick in his fingers. ‘‘I feel like I didn’t explain myself, you know… There’s tons of stuff I still need to tell you.’’

Stupid Ron and his stupid suspense coming out of that stupid mustache that looked stupid.

‘‘Okay. Let’s get this over with.’’


	6. Unexpected

Were those fries or sweet potatoes? Was the meat well done or rare? April just didn’t take the time to consider any of those things. After so many days meagerly feeding on the hospital pigswill, April did feel hungry for the first time in forever. She devoured JJ’s burgers as if she hadn’t eaten in years, not caring for table manners or even the conversation they were supposed to be having.

‘‘Wow, that was awesome,’’ Andy said after she finished, half of his meal still on the plate. ‘‘We should take a picture for JJ’s Wall of Fame.’’

‘‘I never show up in pictures,’’ April deadpanned.

‘‘So, are you a ghost?’’ Andy went with it.

_Funny._

April’s stomach churned, both because of the unusually large amount of food she’d just ingested, but also due to Andy’s ability to pierce right to the truth of things. Speaking of truth…

‘‘So, what did you wanna tell me?’’

‘‘Oh, right, that.’’

‘‘Yes. _That_.’’

‘‘It’s kind of a long story. I don’t really know where to start,’’ Andy scratched the back of his head.

As far as Andy’s mistakes were concerned, maybe he should go back to the moment he was born. But April wasn’t much interested in that part.

‘‘How about the Old Res?’’ she suggested.

Andy gulped as his expression turned earnest. Serious issues usually took their sweet time to seep into Andy’s mind, but once they did, all jokes were put aside. Except maybe this whole conversation was a joke itself, and he was just messing with her again. April felt a sudden urge to leave, just like she did last time. There was only so much humiliation she could take, although maybe her limits on that regard had been exceeded long ago.

‘‘Yeah, so that’d be two years ago,’’ Andy pointed out.

‘‘It feels longer,’’ April murmured, wiping away the drops on the outside of her glass.

‘‘Well, that’s because it’s actually two years, five months and three weeks.’’

Of course. April had almost forgotten about Andy’s extraordinary memory for useless facts, dates and such.

‘‘But, yeah,’’ he continued. ‘‘It feels like even longer than that.’’

There was a natural need for silence afterwards. Andy probably needed some time to put his fallacious thoughts in order. April waited, bracing herself as she stared out of the window. There was something surreal about cities at night, even if the city in question was Pawnee the turd-ville. A slight drizzle made the streets glisten, reflecting all the nocturnal lights. It was like watching a movie: normal people going on with their lives; all their conflicts bound to be resolved easily by a sly writer. Yeah, she should be so lucky.

‘‘So, d’you remember counselor Howser used to call me into his office?’’ Andy asked after a while.

‘‘Yeah. Quite a lot, actually.’’

‘‘Well, it was because of my grades. They sucked.’’

April did know that. She never asked, and he never told. But they both knew.

‘‘Eventually, I got expelled.’’

‘‘Oh.’’

That had been a missing piece of the puzzle for her. Still, it was far from excusing what happened.

_Go, leave, get out of here already._

‘‘That was, like, two days before… you know, our thing,’’ Andy sighed, struggling to find the words. ‘‘Honestly, I’m not a great thinker. But you’d be surprised of how much thought I gave to everything during those two days, like you wouldn’t believe.’’

_There he has a point._

‘‘Anyway,’’ he went on. ‘‘That night I got all dressed… I still have that jersey, you know?’’ Andy’s crime scene reconstruction could also be pictured as a movie, except with no reassuring outcome. An unresolved plot that hurt with each scene. ‘‘Then I got near the Old Res; our latest guests were rushing up the front stairs, probably thinking I was already inside… like I was supposed to. But I wasn’t, I just stood there for a while till I lost track of time. Next thing I know, I’m running, directionless. My feet just moved on their own, and suddenly I was out of campus. I kept running, and somehow I ended up at Ron’s house.’’

‘‘How did you know where he lived?’’

No one in the office knew that. Not even Leslie.

‘‘Once I gave him a shoeshine so good that he invited me over for a barbecue. The man really knows his way around stakes,’’ Andy half smiled, still lost in all the memories. ‘‘The point is, I told him about the expulsion and he offered to pay for my studies at UM, where he graduated himself.’’

‘‘Is that all?’’ April asked, her resurrected rage reaching her cheeks with burning blood. ‘‘You get expelled and suddenly you decide to vanish with no explanation whatsoever? I mean, where does that leave me, Andy?’’

April knew where she was left at, though. There, standing in the middle of an endless aisle, flowers rooting in her hands at the vision of that empty altar. No one there waiting, strangers laughing on both sides, blackness.

‘‘I didn’t leave because I got kicked out, April,’’ Andy almost raised his voice, frustrated, not at her but by his own incapacity to make himself clear. ‘‘When I said I thought a lot those two days afterwards, I meant I thought about you. You were the only thing I was considering.’’

‘‘Why?’’ April’s napkin was totally crumpled inside her fist.

‘‘Because I couldn’t do that to you!’’

‘‘Leaving?’’

_Newsflash, that is exactly what he did._

‘‘Staying.’’

April’s knuckles turned from white to olive as Andy took a gasp for air. Contrastingly, he was even paler than usual.

‘‘I didn’t give a crap about studies or graduating. But I was so embarrassed, bab… April,’’ he cleared his throat. ‘‘I hated myself for not being able to pass the easiest class. I mean, what kind of future could you have with me? You were amazing, good at everything, cooler than everyone else. I’d never heard anyone talk the way you did. You didn’t care about what others could think of you, you never spoke unless you felt like it was worth it. But you talked to me all the time, and I loved it. I loved you, April, and I knew if I stayed, you’d be stuck with a brainless jerk forever. It’s like those books you’re always reading. I was just the pretty cover and you were the inside.’’

Now it was Andy who couldn’t meet her gaze. April stared at him, still processing, trying to understand, and what was even worse, trying to believe. But the ice inside her wasn’t easy to melt. It just cracked.

‘‘I need some fresh air,’’ she managed to say. Andy’s sweaty forehead showed he could use some, too.

* * *

They walked in silence for a while. It was cold, yet not freezing. Just the kind of cool breeze that kept one’s mind awake and both hands inside one’s pockets. Neon lights flickered outside each store, but most of them were empty. Because of the previous rain, those few Pawneeans who were still out sheltered themselves in their smoky cars.

April kept her gaze fixed on the ground, lest she step in a puddle… or Andy’s eyes meet hers.

‘‘So… I’m gonna talk to Ron tomorrow,’’ Andy said as they reached the outskirts of downtown.

‘‘About what?’’

‘‘You were right. I should quit,’’ he shrugged.

‘‘Don’t,’’ April heard herself saying. She waited for the ghost to complain, to fix what she’d just said, to keep her on the right path. But it was silent. ‘‘I mean, don’t do that yet. You should find another job first, sure you have bills to pay.’’

‘‘Yeah, my freezer is full of those. I still don’t know how I am supposed to pay them,’’ Andy admitted.

April laughed. It was an odd sound; she didn’t like it at first. A rusty, unexpected giggle she couldn’t keep from coming out and, if it wasn’t for that weird tickle in her throat, she would have thought someone else had laughed nearby. But the street they were strolling down was completely empty, save for the two of them.

April looked at him at last and, for the first time, she noticed even Andy’s smiles could show a hint of sadness.

 

‘‘Wow, I remember this,’’ Andy said not long after, once they got to April’s front lawn. ‘‘Hasn’t changed much.’’

‘‘Well, dad removed the gutter, so you couldn’t climb up there anymore.’’

‘‘Don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on.’’

Andy tried to smile again, but there was something unnatural about it, as if that classic grin of his was something he’d forgotten how to do. Just like she’d forgotten how to laugh.

‘‘Anyway, I should get going,’’ he said. ‘‘Guess I’ll see you tomorrow at the office?’’

April nodded, her mind still a mess, her heart annoyingly pounding in her temples.

‘‘Okay. Uh… Good night,’’ Andy turned around and started walking.

 ** _Stay. Stay just a little longer_** , she thought. And then she realized it was her thinking that, that was her own inner voice, not some creepy ghost’s. And that was equally dangerous, if not more.

‘‘Oh, by the way,’’ he turned back. ‘‘Should I… talk to you? You know, at work?’’

‘‘Yeah. I guess we can try.’’

‘‘Cool,’’ this time his smile seemed genuine. ‘‘See you there.’’

April watched him leave, walking down her street with his hands in his pockets, as he’d done so many times before. No resolution had been made, no trust had been rebuilt. Yet, she stood there in the cold, thinking, wondering if book pages could be kept together without a paperback.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are reading this, you are awesome and I still can't believe you got to this point. Thank you! :3


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